3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Matías Moreno

A ccording to Bleacher's Pulse , Cattleya will officially be introduced as a Golden Warrior before the Sunday match. I've never seen a deal go faster than her transfer from Medellín to Buenos Aires. They must have been working on it for a while before she came for the medical exams, and the press got a whiff of what was going on.

Franco, her brother-in-law, Marco, and his wife Dani will be there. They're all tight, Dani being Colombian herself.

When they asked if I wanted to tag along, I made a lame excuse and said I already had plans. Truth is, I'm going, but I don't want them to see me sweating or having to face Cattleya and not being recognized by her or something worse. I know I'm a puny motherfucker, but I'd rather drown in my insecurities alone than face the only woman who has made me feel something in my 26 years in this world with an audience.

On Sunday, I wake up at my usual time, which is surprising given that I was tossing around all night. The idea of being so close to Cattleya is triggering my anxiety to levels my medication can't deal with. After a quick run, I shower and head to the stadium. In Argentina, women's soccer matches never sell out but since the media has been hyping up this match and Cattleya's arrival, I'm not sure how long the lines to get into the stadium will be.

I get there at noon, and even though the game starts at three in the afternoon, the lines to get in are substantial. As I scan the crowd, I see lots of people sporting their Colombia national team soccer jerseys. The number of people here has my palms sweating and my heart racing. I wonder how Cattleya is feeling and how she's handling the nerves.

I still remember everything we talked about that time we pulled an all-nighter at the beach. I love how easy it was to chat with her and how she was always so attentive to everything I had to say—as if what I was saying was important, like I mattered. My mind slips into a memory.

"So Matías, are you up for a twenty questions sesh?" I chuckle at her choice of words, but I know my eyes are sparkling. It's the only way I can describe how I am feeling right now: sparkling, glowing, shining.

"Yeah, sure. Ladies first," I reply as I rearrange my position and turn my body to face her fully. She claps her hands in excitement, she's so fucking cute, and usually these bubbly personalities rub me the wrong way. It's too many feelings for me to process, but with her, it feels fun. Her giddiness is contagious in a good way, it makes me feel excited with anticipation about what's to come out of her mouth. Taking a sip of champagne from the bottle we're sharing and after shaking her body, she squares her shoulders. With a serious look, she asks, "Are you a grower or a shower?" She tries and fails miserably at containing a laugh, but we both explode in a fit of laughter at the same time.

After wiping my eyes and taking a fortifying sip of champagne, I clear my throat and ask her, "Do you really want to know? I can show you instead of telling you."

Cattleya's laugh dies immediately after she registers what I just said and heat replaces the mirth in her amber eyes. I know I shouldn't have gone there, we just met, but I've never felt so at ease with a girl before. For sex? Absolutely, but for easy banter and deep conversations? Never. Not until now.

"I'm sorry, I went too far," I say, giving her an out and she gives me an easy smile.

"Nah, I shouldn't have started it. But it's all good. It was funny." She shrugs, and I give her a nod in agreement. The remaining questions are more toned down and by the time we both get up to stretch our legs, the sun is rising. I never want this moment to end.

I still remember how she told me that growing up in a family like hers was both a blessing and a curse; although she had everything her heart desired, she also felt the responsibility of never failing. Because if you have everything, how can you fail?

Once inside the stadium, I buy a pint of beer and a choripan and head to my seat. It's opposite to where the Golden Warriors sit. I'm hoping to have an unobstructed view of Cattleya, but I doubt she'll be playing today. She just joined the team a couple of days ago.

I'm sporting a Golden Warriors jersey with her name on the back "Cardona 35." I just got it at the stadium shop. A deep sense of pride and something that can only be described as longing invades my chest. Never in my life have I felt so thrilled and excited about someone else's achievements.

There's a family sitting next to me, all of them wearing yellow Colombia jerseys with big smiles on their faces. A little girl is sitting next to me, and with curious eyes, she asks, "Are you a Cata fan?" I smile at her and nod my head.

"She's pretty awesome," I say, and the girl grins at me.

"Yeah, she used to play for our soccer team back home, but now she's going to play for our team here so that's even better."

I simply smile at the girl because I can tell she's a fan and I don't have much to add—I completely agree. I'm happy she's going to be playing here. When the little girl's mom notices she's talking with me, she turns our way and holds her daughter by her shoulders.

"I'm sorry if my daughter is bugging you. She's a chatterbox."

I chuckle at her description because if I remember correctly most kids are chatterboxes at around five or six, which is the age I guess the girl is. All the kids except me; I've always been more quiet.

"It's not a bother, she was just telling me how much she likes Cata Cardona," I say as I turn my back so they can see my jersey.

"Mom, can I get Cata's jersey, too?" The mom looks at me like, look what you did and I wince. I simply take a bite of my choripan and start looking around the crowd in the opposite direction. It takes me a couple of seconds to find my friends. They're all sporting Cata's jerseys too, and my heart warms at the sight of Cata's parents. They're sitting next to Sofi and Franco, and they're all decked out in dark blue and gold, the team's colors. I've seen them only a couple of times, but they're so kind and welcoming. I wish I were sharing this moment with everyone, but instead, I'm hiding like a thief. Because that's what you are. A loser thief.

Instead of listening to the little voice in my head, I focus on the teams warming up on the pitch. A roar of cheers, whistling, and applause erupts in the bleachers, and I'm taken aback by the amount of people who are here to see her. Not that she doesn't deserve it, but I never thought she was going to be such a huge deal here. The little girl next to me starts yelling, "Cata, Cata" and waving her hands uncontrollably, trying to catch Cattleya's attention.

"Shit, I didn't think this through." I duck and try to find a nonexistent coin on the ground. Luckily for me, Cattleya is simply making her way to her teammates, waving her left hand while she touches the team's logo on her jersey. I can't take my eyes off of her. She has her hair in a tall ponytail and a couple of braids on each side of her head, her uniform hugs her delicious curves while looking comfortable. I remember how I got to trace those same curves all those years ago. You could have kept doing it, if you weren't such an idiot . I try to ignore my intrusive thoughts and focus on Cattleya; her eyes shine bright like the sun at sunrise. She's floating on the field, her moves are graceful but purposeful at the same time. I know this is just a warm-up, but she seems like she's thinking a step ahead of her teammates leading the team effortlessly.

Fifteen minutes before the match is set to start, her team takes position around a makeshift podium installed in the center of the field. The team's president starts talking, and everyone quiets down.

"It is with great joy and pride that I introduce to you our newest player, a dedicated, hardworking, and young promise of women's soccer in South America. Cata Cardona." The stadium erupts in cheers, and I join in—I whistle and clap as hard as I can. Even though we haven't spoken in the last four years, I'm so proud of all she has achieved thus far. And I know this is only the beginning. This woman was born to shine.

"Buenos Aires, it feels so good to be here." Another round of cheers explodes before she continues her speech: "First of all, I'd like to thank the entire management team for scouting me and being so diligent to reach an agreement with my former team and myself. It's an honor to defend these colors and, to be honest, a dream come true. Growing up, every time I thought about soccer, Argentina was the first country that came to my mind and I always dreamt of how nice it would be if one day I could make it here."

More applause fills the stadium and this time, Cattleya wipes her eyes, her beautiful smile never leaving her face. "So here I am, ready to serve this team with the best of my abilities and all my heart. I'll give everything I am to this team. Gracias !" She does another round of waves to the crowd, but this time she decides to walk along the field, trying to greet and take as many pictures as she can with the fans. I'm entranced by her presence. It's almost omnipotent.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't realize the little girl next to me was able to get Cattleya's attention. The next thing I know, she's stopped walking, her mouth is agape and her gaze is entangled with mine.

"Cata, do you know him? Look, he's even wearing your jersey." The little girl screeches in excitement having her idol in such close proximity, bringing me out of the hold Cattleya has on me.

"You came," is all she says, before I jump out of my seat and make a hasty exit out of the stadium. I'm such a fucking loser. I had the chance to offer an olive branch to Cattleya and finally explain to her why I was such an ass all those years ago. Instead, I left like a thief. Ugh, why am I this way? What the fuck is wrong with me?